
Louise
Bourgoin in L'un dans l'autre (2017). Weak
quality. I think this is a cam (1280x536)
Susan
Allenback in A Dirty Shame (2004) in 1080hd
Aimee
Graham, Jessie
Faller and Rosie
Perez in Perdita Durango (1997) in 1080hd
One time I was walking through a somewhat
disreputable part of Amsterdam with my girlfriend and
her ten year old daughter. No, I wasn't corrupting
children. It was in the middle of the day, and the area
was filled with families. Avoiding the sex trade in
Amsterdam is not as easy as you might think. The X-rated
stuff is integrated into the warp and woof of the city.
At any rate, the clubs have sex shows around the clock,
and they post barkers outside to hawk the shows to
passers-by. One particularly aggressive guy said to me,
"C'mon in, buddy. Hot action. We have real fucking, not
fake fucking like those other clubs." I indicated
wordlessly that Linda's child was with us, and the guy
said, without skipping a beat, "Hey, pal, people of all
ages like REAL fucking. It's fun for the whole family."
Well, if you find the family that he had in mind, this
is their family movie!
Even if you're a major movie buff, you've probably never
heard of Barry Gifford, although he indirectly
contributed quite a bit to the movies of the 90s.
Gifford wrote several noir novels about the sleazy
underbelly of border life, with names like: "Wild at
Heart", "Baby Cat-Face", and "59 Degrees and Raining."
David Lynch has made two of his books into the films
Lost Highway and Wild at Heart. The books all include
the same basic cast of characters, mostly featuring a
couple called The Sailor and Lula, so any movie about
those characters (including Perdita Durango herself) is
most likely based on all the books in one way or
another. The Perdita Durango movie is closest to "59
Degrees and Raining," the story which elevates Perdita
from a background character to the focus of her own
story. This film may share some characters and a
pedigree with Lynch's Wild at Heart, but it is not
stylish surrealism like a Lynch movie, nor is it smart
tongue-in-cheek satire like Pulp Fiction, nor a
creatively sociopathic romp into social criticism like A
Clockwork Orange. Instead, it is a farcical,
over-the-top gore-fest in the modern equivalent of Grand
Guignol. The most similar movie I can name is Natural
Born Killers.
Rosie Perez plays Perdita Durango in this film (Isabella
Rossellini played the part in Wild at Heart), as a
cynical hooker who finally meets her love match, a man
who is a voodoo priest, a bank robber and a grave robber
all rolled into one, a guy who does a hokey Santeria act
where he hacks up dead bodies and finishes by ripping
out the body's heart. Most women are scared of him, as
well they might be, but not ol' Perdita. She knows he's
a con man, and suggests that his act is way too tame,
and that he could make it more authentic and peppy with
live human sacrifice.
To this end, they kidnap an incredibly "white bread"
couple of Gringo teenagers. The chick is played by Aimee
Graham (Rollergirl's sister). The long-term plan is to
rip out their hearts while they are still alive (ala the
Aztecs), then eat their flesh as part of the act.
Perdita gets a trifle hacked off, however, when
voodoo-boy decides to rehearse by eating Rollergirl's
sister while she's still alive and naked, if you catch
my drift.
After a substantial amount of rape and other physical
and mental abuse, Rollergirl's sister and her boyfriend
are finally deemed ready for the human sacrifice and
cannibalism, so they are stripped naked and covered with
feathers in preparation for the first show. Since only
one of them needs to die, Perdita and voodoo-boy have a
vote to see which one, and they allow the victims to
participate in the referendum. The Wonder Bread twins
get really ticked off at each other and start bickering
because each voted for the other to be killed. Finally,
Rollergirl's sister gets chosen in the tiebreaker, the
show begins, and the girl is about to get her heart cut
out, when some other bad guys show up at the Santeria
ceremony with machine guns and start blasting away.
Perdita and Voodoo-boy and our teens manage to escape,
only to get into another bloody shoot-out with some DEA
guys headed up by Tony Soprano. No problem. After they
escape again, they get to drive a hijacked truck of
human fetuses to Vegas, where the fetuses are to be
essential in testing some new cosmetics. More bad guys
double cross each other, more blood spills, and
...
Well, I'm sure you know that the various bad guys and
Feds all have to figure it out somehow, using the
Socratic method, assiduous logic, and especially
automatic weapons.
This film is basically an attempt to out-Tarantino the
master, but it gets strangely trapped somewhere between
very broad satire (ala Stone's Natural Born Killers) and
a straight-out attempt to milk humor from exaggerated
gore (ala the films of Herschell Gordon Lewis). The
script gets funny, then it gets sentimental, and some
scenes are even icily serious, as if no farce had
preceded them. The movie ends, for example, with Rosie
in tears, walking down a Vegas street with the sad music
signaling the movie's end.
Overall, the whole show is basically an anarchistic,
adolescent jerk-off-fantasy movie designed for the young
male market. The film is sometimes racist, and generally
glorifies rape and violence. I guess this was meant as
satire.
Fun for the whole family.
Graham (notice how much she looks like Heather in that
first one)
Faller
Perez
Madeleine
Stowe and Joy Gregory in Blink (1994) in 1080hd
One of the most difficult challenges for a
screenwriter of thrill-based entertainment (horror
films, thrillers, murder mysteries, etc.) is to hold the
audience's attention in the set-up stage, especially if
the premise is complicated. Doing just that is one of
the many things that Dana Stevens did right in this, her
first screenplay. Although the gimmicky premise required
the transmission of a lot of information, the first 25
minutes went well, transmitted the many necessary facts
in a painless manner, and got the audience involved in
the characters.
The overall premise could have made this just another
gimmicky film in which the killer, or an important
witness, or an intended victim, has a unusual medical
malady. (Multiple personality disorder or amnesia,
anyone?) In this case, the set-up is kind of a really
complicated version of "Wait Until Dark." The key murder
witness is blind. Well, actually, she was blind until
six weeks ago. Since her transplant, she is still kinda
sorta still blind, but she can also kinda sorta see.
Sometimes she sees things clearly, but more often not.
Most important to the plot, she seems to have some kind
of a delay in her nervous system. Stuff happens before
her eyes on Tuesday, but she doesn't actually see it
until Wednesday. To make matters even worse, some of her
visions are flashbacks to events which happened decades
earlier (before she lost her sight), so she is trapped
in a world of dimly perceived sights which may or may
not be clear, and may or may not be happening as she
sees them.
For example, she went to a mirror and saw herself in the
mirror as a child - the last thing she saw before she
lost her sight twenty years earlier. Then she saw her
friend in the hospital, although the friend had actually
been there the day before. Given those facts, how could
she know whether the criminal she saw was someone she
really saw then and there, or someone from a day before,
or even twenty years before?
To say the least, the police found her testimony to be
lacking in credibility. In fact, they didn't even
believe her at all when she first tried to report the
crime - until a murder victim was found and the
investigators stumbled into the formerly blind woman
living in the apartment below the victim, thus
supporting completely what she had reported earlier. The
thrills of the thriller are generated by the woman's
repeated sightings or visions of the murderer she may or
may not have seen the night of the murder. Does she keep
seeing him? Is he following her? Or did she ever see him
at all? Since her vision is still developing, she can
never really be sure what she is seeing, and she
perceives most things as if in a fog or a distortion
mirror.
The film was intended to function as a murder mystery as
well as a thriller. The murder mystery portion of the
development just doesn't work at all. When the police
finally figured the case out, the relationship between
the victims was something that we could not have solved
from our theater seats, because the solution hinged on
something hidden from us - the fact that one of the
victims was killed by mistake. Furthermore, the criminal
was never developed as a character, and his motivation,
while eventually sufficing as a satisfactory explanation
for his actions, got tossed in from deep in left field.
On the other hand, if we forget about the cerebral part
of the puzzle and react to the visceral portion, Blink
is actually a pretty effective thriller, because
director Michael Apted managed to keep the audience in
the POV of the semi-blind woman, thus experiencing her
paranoia and confusion.
The best part of the film, the element that lifts it
above the dozens of similar films that go straight to
video every year, is the character development. It is
done so well that the gimmicky premise is soon fully
internalized and accepted as a given. The four good
characters - two cops, the blind woman, and the blind
woman's doctor - are all developed, and are all real
people. Like all of us, they said things they regretted,
they said things that were politically incorrect, they
hurt each other, they goofed off when they should have
been working, and they made mistakes. The lead detective
and the blind woman did fall in love, as required by
movie convention, but not until after a lot of
hesitation and false starts. Even after they fell in
love, the screenwriter was daring enough to suggest that
their mutual obsession got in the way of the
bone-crunching detail work necessary to real police
investigations. In time, the detective dumped the woman
on a uniformed cop so he could get back to the station
and get some work done. He then ducked her calls, not
because he was mad at her, but simply because he had a
job to do, and jobs don't stop so people can fall in
love. That was pretty damned effective, because (1) it
was true-to-life (2) it made things more emotionally
satisfying for us when they overcame the problems and
worked things out sensibly.
The director brought something very interesting into the
film - the sights, and sounds and geometry of Chicago. I
used the word "geometry" with a great deal of
consideration, because Michael Apted plays his own
visual games with the changing geometric shapes of the
city of Chicago, just as Jean-Pierre Jeunet did with
Paris in Amelie. The camera angles are set up to catch
the triangular symmetry of the entry stars to the El, or
the unique curve of the train's approach, the diamond of
the Wrigley infield, or the repeating rectangles of the
skyscrapers whose details are lost in the morning fog.
This is a very impressive subtlety that really invokes
the feel of the city on a very deep level for those who
have been there. It makes the film smell like
Chicago.
I suppose the script is probably a bit too ambitious -
romantic triangle, thriller, mystery, psychodrama,
character study - but the overall impact is positive. It
works. While not without flaws, this is a good little
thriller with some complex and deep character
development, and I got into it.
Stowe
Gregory

Rose MacGowan in Flatt magazine, whatever that is
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